"Against the contrasting light-coloured sand, I vaguely discerned two dark figures approaching our camp. Military men. *Uh oh.* "10 September 1999 (Desaru, Malaysia)
We made it through the Malaysian customs albeit the curious questions and looks from the customs officials. They thought we might be Japanese tourists. Apparently, a group of them had been there not too long ago for the very same reasons. The rest of the trip was a breeze after we loaded into a waiting cab. We hit our site at about 5pm and began setting up camp on the sandy beach some twenty metres away from the sea. The sky wasn't promising but we weren't about to delay any moments for astrophotography once the clouds break for a second. By 7.30pm, we were ready for a good night ahead.
In the semi-darkness of Batu Layar, it was rather difficult to see much beyond fifty metres. Against the contrasting light-coloured sand, I vaguely discerned two dark figures approaching our camp. Military men. *Uh oh.* The two of us and one Losmandy G11 coupled with a scope aren't exactly their version of a "typical camper". We had encountered the military on our previous trips there. However, in previous trips there were more than two of us. A powerful beam of light shone our way, temporarily blinding us, scanning the camp perimeter, and finally finding a grip on the G-11.
The two men spoke in Malay, We played dumb in that we did not understand any language other than English. It was risky business to speak in their tongue. Something I learnt from my travel experiences. Safer to act like the confused tourist. They demanded passports, and began their round of interrogation. While I reasoned with myself that this should be a routine thing (should be??), I was getting edgy. This spot on the beach was still considered public area where most people camped during the weekends. I was starting to feel like an illegal alien. Remus fielded most of their questions.
It wasn't long before four more black figures surrounded us. It still freaks me out a little, the way they move around you without the slightest sound. I envy their night vision. They see things before they even appear. Eerie yet professional. Questions poured in. We kinda lied that we were on a university project to photograph the stars and that our equipment was on loan from the university. Any questions regarding cost of equipment were either highly distorted (We got a hundred-dollar Contax camera with Zeiss Sonnar lens from the night market..) or shrugged off and deflected to the university clause. As the military milled around our camp, the clouds chose this opportune moment to break and flash the whole stretch of Milky Way from Scorpius to Cygnus at us. DANG! And the sky remained clear for as long as the military was there.
When they decided to move off in search of other targets, we smashed world record to get into photographic mode. The haze was coming in, so we took a chance at shooting whatever was clear for the few moments. (Out of the ten shots, only two pictures barely survived being affected by the hazy conditions.) I was pretty sure astrophotography might be over for the rest of the night. We still had high hopes for prime focus later at about 3am. We were also hoping it would be patrol rest time by then. Clouds, rain, patrols, biting insects, and now we had another concern: The tide was steadily moving inland. Backup plan: Take as many more shots as we can and then shift camp when the tide became too close for comfort. The sea was now some five metres away from the G-11.
Occasionally, the military would pass our campsite as they continued on their patrol. One of them was curious enough to hang around. He is Lance Corporal Azhari who has been in the military for the past nine years. Through him, we learnt more about their patrol rounds. They were on the lookout for illegal immigrants coming in via the South China Sea. The patrol units move around the many states in Malaysia every two months. I was beginning to understand why we were always in the military's suspicions: They never stayed long enough to get use to the sight of us astronomers in their patrol areas. Throughout, Azhari was rather accommodating. He also assured us that the tide was about to recede for the night.
He was in the middle of recounting part of his earlier life in Singapore when suddenly, he halted in mid-sentence. His body went from relaxed to tensed for action. His senses had picked up something from the bush area behind our camp. I kept still as I followed his line of sight. Remus was in the tent preparing for prime focus photography I think. I'm not sure if he caught whiff of the impending situation. I saw nothing but darkness, bushes and trees. In the split-second that my attention was diverted from Azhari to the trees, he had deftly and oh-so-quietly moved several metres away from the exposed beach to behind the tent. I found myself stunned by his nimble agility and silent moves. There and then, two powerful beams lashed out at us. Seven silent dark figures were headed our way. From the way, Azhari moved I was almost sure we were about to be set upon by enemy forces. (This is beginning to sound too exciting to be a "normal" night out to see the stars.)
I ventured a cautious "Hello?". I had hoped that maybe if they heard a different accent, they would be friendlier? *Sheesh* I heaved such a sigh of relief when Azhari stood up to greet the newcomers. It turned out to be his commanding officer and his private squadron. More questions ensued although Azhari tried to sum the general picture for his boss. My heart skipped a beat when the officer asked to see our legal documents to camp here. My patience was beginning to wear thin but I held fast at the thought of possibly spending the weekend in the local jail. I firmly but politely corrected him that since this was a public area for holiday-makers to camp, so why would we need legal documents. He replied that only Malaysians were allowed to camp there. Now, I was really beginning to get irritated by the apparent harassment. I caught Azhari's words to his officer in Malay about leaving us alone, as there were some other campers some 200 metres further down. That was about when the officer asked us in a smattering of gruff English tones if he was disturbing us. "Oh, no, no! It's okay." Remus and I chorused. (I have never been more harassed in my life. Although I heard of a previous encounter when the military did body searches.) Satisfied with what he saw, the officer and his men left.
1am, and being on constant lookout for haze, aeroplane light pollution and dark figures was draining. I was taking down notes for our tenth astro shot when I caught sight of a red prick of laser light dancing around me and the tent. "Huh? Red light?" My eyes trailed the errant red point. "Who's playing with a laser pointer, man?" I blurted out. It was at that point that I realized that Remus had froze his position and was deathly still. I mirrored his actions not daring to breathe. "What?! What?!!" I whispered harshly. "Shit!" came Remus' reply as I watch his eyes furtively scan the area behind me. "Shit!! It's a laser from a rifle!"
O-h--m-y--g-o-d.
Remus had gone through two years of army training so I figured he probably knew what he was talking about. I only know rifle means I could be getting closer to heaven than I am currently prepared for. I watched the menacing red light as it trailed a path on the tent, along the G-11, onto Remus and back again. In between the times I could not see the red light, I had a pretty good feeling it was trained somewhere on the back of my head and along my spine. The seconds seem to stretch and neither of us moved. "Where is it coming from?!" A pretty stupid question, but I would still like to know, especially since I'm not even facing my potential Grim Reaper. "You can't trace the light path of a laser point." Remus reminded me. I admired his perchance for logical explanations in the face of impending death. When the light was gone, I figured I have enough material to write an account when I get home which I was so looking forward to right there and then.
The rest of the night, I kept lying low in the tent. We took turns to keep watch but it was getting exhausting. Azhari returned and offered to keep watch while we rested. (I don't think we're about trust him.) Sleep was intermittent as at any moment of consciousness we scanned the sky and the ground for "stars". ("Star" became an impromptu code between Remus and I to alert each other to the presence of the dark ones.) It seemed like such a long time to daybreak, but it finally dawned as the clouds parted to reveal clear blue skies. A huge relief to me. We packed up and the hired taxi arrived at 6.45am to fetch us to the jetty. So ends another normal trip out to see the stars. We survived. This could be my most traumatizing trip ever to Batu Layar. Personally, I don't think I'll be returning to this place again to stargaze unless I'm in BIG group.
A true account by Lin .13th September 1999, Monday.
